EVENING

I handed him my letter and said I would email it to the owner and his wife before I went home. I was relieved to see the receptionist had gone home by the time I had to walk back by her desk. I told the gals still around in the back office and drove home, still shaking from my nerves.

I called my mom on the way home. I HAD to talk to SOMEONE. My husband was away on business, of course, so I was going home to my puppy and an empty house. My nerves had calmed by the time I got home and a fantastic sense of relief had taken the place of my anxiety.

It was two days before any of the managers came and said anything to me. "So I hear you're leaving us..." By then I'd had enough time to figure out what I'd say when forced to address this uncomfortable issue. "Yup, I'm running away to Brazil." It was the truth, and there's absolutely nothing they could say to make me feel guilty in follow-up. I stuck to the same line whenever it came up in person or on the phone for the next two weeks.